in the outpost of never i found him. he had that faraway look of someone playing hard to get who rarely gets gotten and the long red-brown hair you can only describe as tresses when they frame a pale chopinesqe face. he was rail thin emaciated even but that only made me want him more.
he wasn’t the type to play around. he wasn’t the kind to hang around. he wanted what he wanted and that wasn’t me but at least he pretended for a while in the outpost of never where there are no promises to keep.
i stood in the frame of the window silhouetted against the setting sun. his hair was a golden red in the fading light his eyes an emerald green. he kissed me then a friendly kiss not a lover’s kiss but i succumbed just the same.
in the outpost of never the room is always warm and fragrant with creosote tumbleweed and cedar. The fragrance coats your body your thoughts your tongue so that you can never taste another.
on moonless nights the door is left open. on moonless nights the coyotes howl. on moonless nights in the outpost of never when you stumble upon the one you love who does not love you back you may want to but you never close the door.